


Worth the Wait

by WolfGoddess77



Series: Final Fantasy XV Stories [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Also A Shameless Flirt, Angry Sex, Biting, Complete, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Nyx Is A Little Shit, Oneshot, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfGoddess77/pseuds/WolfGoddess77
Summary: You had never gotten along with your fellow Glaive Nyx Ulric; everything about him grated on your nerves, from that mouth of his that never knew when to shut up, to the way he always seemed to be right in your path whenever he wasn’t wanted. The two of you were like oil and water.But he finds you irresistible, and he won’t stop until you finally give in.





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched the Kingsglaive movie. BIG mistake, as I'm now head over heels in love with Nyx. Why are there so many amazing men in this universe?! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XV, nor do I own you. No money is made from the writing of this story.

Nyx Ulric was charming. He was handsome, fearless, confident… He was a hero, as many of his fellow Kingsglaive had taken to calling him in jest. He was quick with his twin blades, and an absolute nightmare in combat, relying heavily on warping, which made him unpredictable and lethal.

 

Nyx Ulric was a warrior of the highest caliber, and everyone knew it, including him. His charisma was off the charts; he had a kind of magnetism to him that seemed to draw in anyone who got too close, whether they wanted to be or not.

 

And Nyx Ulric pissed you off.

 

He was an exemplary Glaive, there was no doubt about that. Loyal to a fault and a good fighter to boot, the two of you shouldn’t have been at odds. Your personalities were close enough that, in all honesty, you should have hit it off well with him.

 

But there was something about him that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was his confidence, which often seemed to threaten to jump the line into arrogance, or it might have been the way he acted like nothing could ever hurt him, charging straight into danger without pausing to think about it first.

 

Whatever the reason, you tried to avoid him for the most part. And by and large, you had been successful.

 

Until you had decided to spend some time in the training room one morning. You were just finishing up your stretches when Nyx appeared in the doorway. This surprised you; you didn’t think you had ever seen him come here before. Then again, you usually took great pains to be wherever he _wasn’t_ , so that might have been why.

 

You straightened, noticing that you weren’t the only one who found his presence a bit odd.

 

“Hey, hero! I thought you gave up coming here months ago,” someone called, making the Glaive’s slate-blue eyes cut across to him.

 

“Yeah, I did, but I’m bored. When you’re not on assignment, there’s not much to do around here unless you leave the Citadel, but I’m not off-duty yet. So I thought I would come see if anyone was up for a little fight.”

 

Duties at the Citadel could sometimes get a little murky. Kingsglaive members weren’t allowed to leave until the end of the day, but occasionally, they wouldn’t be assigned a specific duty, so they were free to roam as they wished, as long as they remained within the vicinity. This was the situation you had found yourself in that day.

 

Most of the Glaives used the time to better their abilities or tend to their equipment, but occasionally, a black sheep would be found who didn’t know what to do with themselves.

 

Today, that black sheep was Nyx.

 

His eyes scanned the scattered population of the room before finally settling on you, making you stiffen.

 

“How about you, (Name)? You don’t look too busy. Wanna go a round or two?” He gave you a small smile. On anyone else, it would have been charming, but you knew him well enough to see the edge of wickedness beneath it.

 

“Sorry, no can do.” You gave him a dismissive wave, intending to turn back to the conversation you’d been having while you warmed up. The last thing you wanted to do was climb into the ring with him, subjecting yourself willingly to his presence.

 

Because you’d looked away, you didn’t see the glitter that appeared in his eyes. Your only warning was a slow intake of breath as he stepped closer, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong, shortcake? Don’t think you can take me in a fight?”

 

You froze. That _hated_ nickname.

 

Because you were quite a bit smaller than most of the others, you were often teased about it, but you always took it in stride, joking back that it wasn’t your fault you were surrounded by gangling titans.

 

But then one day, Nyx had located you at an outdoor café as you were finishing up lunch with a friend, and he had noticed that you were having a strawberry shortcake for dessert. A slow smile had spread across his face, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as you waited with bated breath to hear just what was about to come out of that mouth of his.

 

“Shortcake, huh? Well, that just fits like a glove, doesn’t it?”

 

It was only because of your companion’s quick movements that you were stopped from launching yourself across the table at him. From that day on, whenever he wanted to provoke you, he would call you that name, which you had quickly come to hate. How he managed to know _exactly_ what to say to piss you off, you didn’t know, but he had a gift for it. What was more, you were sure he thrived on it, and made it a point to antagonize you as often as he could. It had gotten to the point where it seemed like every corner you turned, there he was, just waiting for his chance, which he would gleefully seize without hesitation.

 

Slowly, you pulled yourself up straight, turning to face him. Even though you had to tilt your head back to make eye contact with him, you had never been one to be intimidated by someone bigger than you. Conversation fell silent as the tension in the room grew. You could almost feel it crackling between the two of you as your eyes met his.

 

“Anywhere, anytime,” you said, your voice deadly quiet. It was one thing for him to tease you in private, but in front of everyone like this? That was going to prove to be a mistake.

 

Nyx merely blinked at you, unfazed. “I believe the offer was right here, right now.”

 

Abruptly, you turned, making your way over to the large ring in the middle of the room and climbing inside. Nyx was close behind you, already reaching up to unfasten his jacket. The two of you kept your eyes on each other as you each removed the outer layers of your Kingsglaive uniforms, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the way his muscles rippled as the garments were set aside, revealing more and more skin. You might not have liked him all that much, but even you could objectively appreciate a fine specimen of masculinity when it was standing just feet away from you, half-dressed.

 

The two of you stripped down to pants and tank tops, your fingerless gloves the only other thing you were allowed to wear, so neither of you would do too much damage to the other. As you were straightening from putting your boots aside, you caught him eyeing you. Not that he tried to be subtle about it; his gaze dipped boldly over your form, and you saw one corner of his mouth twitch upwards slightly. Strangely, you weren’t overly bothered by this. You had been doing the same thing just a moment ago – though you had been far more discreet – so you didn’t have a leg to stand on if you decided to call him out on it. Turnabout was fair play, you supposed.

 

Drawing your slender silver daggers from their sheaths, you turned to look at him. He was standing halfway across the ring from where you were, his own curved daggers already in hand, and even as you watched, he casually tossed one of them into the air, catching it by its blade before flipping it again, over and over. You studied him closely, taking in the relaxed, almost lazy way he carried himself. It was like he was simply preparing for a conversation with you, rather than combat.

 

You slid into a defensive stance, raising your arms across your body protectively. Unlike him, you preferred to hang back at first, studying your opponent and trying to get a read on their battle style before going on the offensive. It would be difficult with Nyx, though; you had seen him in combat many times, and knew he wouldn’t be standing there for very long. Soon he would-

 

Sure enough, before you even had time to finish that thought, your opponent had lunged forward, closing the distance between the two of you and swinging into a heel kick aimed at your stomach. You nimbly slid backwards just enough to avoid the blow, spinning around towards his momentarily-undefended back and throwing a punch at his ribcage, making sure that your dagger was turned in such a way that it wouldn’t strike him.

 

He didn’t give you the chance to connect, using the rest of his momentum to complete the turn, and using his elbow to push your arm out of the way before the punch could reach him. As he did this, you noticed that he wasn’t using his full strength. It was an almost gentle strike, if there was such a thing.

 

This made you frown. Was he not taking you seriously?  If he wasn’t, you would _make_ him.

 

Backing away before he could go into another attack, you threw one of your daggers over his head, burying it in one of the many stone columns that had been set up around the ring for just this purpose. He watched as your form disintegrated, turning at the telltale _crack_ of the completed warp as what looked like embers fell from your newly-manifested body as you hung one-handed from your perch.

 

But instead of warping again, you simply hung there, waiting, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist.

 

You saw him raise his hand, and his own dagger was soon sailing through the air. But almost simultaneously, your second blade was airborne, being thrown straight at him. It was moving slower than the first one, giving him the opportunity to catch it…which he did. He hadn’t meant to, but it was instinctive.

 

His eyes widened when he realized what you were about to do, hurriedly dropping the weapon, but it was too late. His blade had landed little more than a foot away from you, sending him into a warp that would put him on a collision course with you. Just before the both of you disappeared, you saw his mouth form one word.

 

 _Shit_.

 

You crashed into each other in midair, but you were ready for him. Tossing your second blade aside so you wouldn’t accidentally stab him, you planted your knee firmly in his chest, positioning yourself so you were on top as you both hit the ground. You immediately went for his hands, trying to pin them down so he wouldn’t be able to use the second blade to warp away or to force you to back off. Using the daggers offensively was forbidden in sparring sessions that had been agreed upon to be conducted with hand to hand combat, and Nyx took the rules seriously, but you didn’t know what might happen in the heat of the moment, when both of you were caught up in battle.

 

He grinned, taking in your respective positions. “Well, now,” he commented, making sure to pitch his voice so only you could hear him. “I never pegged you for one who liked to be on top.”

 

Your eyes widened, and to your annoyance, you felt a faint heat rise to your face, and you knew you were blushing. “Keep that loud mouth of yours shut. You have no idea what I like.”

 

“If you don’t like being on top…then maybe you should _move_.”

 

To your surprise, he dropped his dagger, his hands slithering through your hold. You felt them gliding up your bare arms, then back down your sides (what the _hell_ was he doing?!), and when he got to your waist, he pushed upwards, raising you up just enough to be able to slide one leg between the two of you. In an impressive display of flexibility, he brought his knee up to his chest, placing his foot over your stomach and launching you over his head.

 

You twisted in midair, going into a flip that would both turn you upright again, and spin you around so you were facing him.

 

Landing in a kneeling position, you paused, waiting as he turned himself back over, going into a crouch. The two of you studied each other, taking stock of the situation. Each of you had one dagger left; his second one was still buried in the pillar from his failed warp, while yours was lying next to him.

 

Your gaze flicked between the two daggers, calculating. You wouldn’t be able to warp to his side to retrieve your blade fast enough; he would snatch it up before you ever got there, and then you would be forced to meet him unarmed. But would he rather go for his own dagger, or would he settle for yours?

 

This question was answered as you saw the muscles of his arm tense in preparation for movement – he was going for your blade. Well, two could play that game. Swiftly, you tossed your one remaining weapon at the pillar where his own dagger was, and you felt yourself pulled into the warp just as he grabbed your blade, standing up and turning around in preparation for where you would land.

 

As soon as you touched down on the pillar, you yanked his dagger free, along with your own, dropping to the ground and swiftly turning to face him. You knew he wouldn’t be still for long; even though he could stand completely motionless for hours while on guard duty, in combat, he was always moving; a veritable whirlwind on the field.

 

Nyx was halfway across the arena in the time it took you to land and turn to look at him once more. Sparks flew as the four blades connected between you, the loud ringing of metal the only thing you could hear, save for two sets of heavy breathing…and his voice.

 

“That big dagger doesn’t suit a sweet little thing like you. Why not give it back?” His voice all but caressed you as he spoke; there was something almost sinful about it.

 

“That’s a good one, considering _you_ took _my_ dagger first. Elegance like that doesn’t belong in the hands of someone so unrefined. You hand mine over first, then I’ll return yours,” you shot back, watching as he blinked in surprise at your retort before laughing.

 

“All right, fair enough. I probably had that coming. But before I give you back your dagger, you gotta back down.” With difficulty, he took a step forward, bringing his body almost completely against yours. Like this, you could see the two dark marks on his face, one on his right cheek, the other beneath his left eye. Suddenly, your eyes narrowed, and you looked a bit closer.

 

What you had always assumed to be beauty marks were actually minuscule tattoos, you saw. You’d seen the other ones on his body, but those were much easier to identify. These, you had never paid much attention to, until now.

 

“Huh…” you murmured quietly, tilting your head slightly to the side. Your arms were beginning to shake with the strain of holding him off; you had to move quickly before your strength gave out. But you could still manage this, if you did it carefully.

 

He raised one eyebrow. “What?” His voice was wary, now. Good. You didn’t like the way he had been talking to you before. That tone of voice had sent a chill up your spine that set you on edge.

 

“I didn’t know those were tattoos.” You let your gaze flick downward suggestively. “Where else are you hiding ink?”

 

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Wanna find out?”

 

“Mm, I think I’ll pass. Being this close to you…just doesn’t do it for me.” With that, your arms went slack, and the blades closed in. But before they could strike you, you had fallen backwards, tucking into a roll that would bring you away from him.

 

Nyx recovered quickly, taking a step forward before he could lose his balance, and bracing himself for whatever attack you were no doubt planning next.

 

While you would have liked nothing better than to go all out on him, you knew that you couldn’t. The clash the two of you had just had was already pushing the rules, and you didn’t want to break them. Thanks to the training both of you had, chances were good that nothing would happen, but there was still that small chance that one of you would injure the other, and dressed as you were, that wound could be debilitating, or even fatal.

 

Instead, you backed away, circling around the pillar to give yourself time to think. As you did this, you sheathed the single dagger that belonged to you, deciding that you wouldn’t be relying on warping for the time being. It might put you at a disadvantage, since he most likely wouldn’t make the same concession, but you wanted this to be a close-combat battle, which was your specialty. You wanted him put off-balance for once in his life, and you wanted it to be at your hand.

 

Slowly, you emerged from the other side of the pillar, and Nyx took in your empty hand with some surprise. But you didn’t give him a chance to think about what this might mean as you suddenly lunged forward, leaping up and going into a spinning kick aimed at his ribs. He caught your ankle on his arm before you could connect, pushing upwards so you were forced to flip upside down.

 

You caught yourself on your hands and pushed backwards, only to use the pillar behind you as a springboard to launch yourself at him again. Your assault was relentless, forcing him to go on the defensive, which you knew he never liked to do. Nyx was an offensive fighter, through and through.

 

But so were you. And you had the advantage of speed. There was no mistake that Nyx was very quick, but he also outweighed and outmassed you, and that worked against him in this fight.

 

He blocked the flurry of kicks and punches you attempted to land on him, not realizing that you had your eyes set on a different prize: your dagger. With each blow, you came a little closer, circling around him so he had to keep turning in place to fend you off. The entire time, you were watching him closely, waiting…

 

_There!_

 

Finally, you saw your chance. You feinted into a high kick, and when he raised his arms to block it, you spun beneath his guard, coming up inches away from him and slamming the palm of your hand into his wrist, jarring your blade out of his hold. You snatched it up before he could recover, dancing backwards with a small smile on your face.

 

Nyx shook his wrist to chase away the sting of your blow, eyeing you appreciatively. “Not bad. But now you owe me a dagger.” He crooked one finger towards you in a “ _come here_ ” motion. “Hand it over, now.”

 

For a moment, you considered denying him the request, making him come get it himself, and take it from you the way you had been forced to do with your own blade. But you didn’t trust him to end it there; he very well might end up taking your weapons away from you in the process, just because he could.

 

That made up your mind, and you tossed his blade back to him. He caught it in midair, and you noticed that your easy acceptance of his demand had taken him off-guard. This made you smile. You liked seeing him this way.

 

But the fight wasn’t over yet. The two of you began circling each other, waiting and watching to see what the other would do.

 

Nyx made the first move, shifting his hold on one of his blades and throwing it at you. No, not _at_ you. The blade flew past your side with inches to spare, and he vanished in a burst of sparks. You barely had time to turn around before he descended upon you, and you raised your daggers in a crossed defense, catching his blades. Locking your elbows so he couldn’t use his greater strength to push your arms down, you clenched your teeth.

 

“This seems a little familiar,” you commented, your voice betraying the strain your body was currently under as you tried to keep yourself from folding beneath him.

 

“You noticed that, too? Guess I’m a sucker for routine.”

 

You knew that it wouldn’t end the same way as it had before, though; your trembling arms were already being forced downward, the blades inching closer. If you were going to do something, it had to be _now_.

 

Collecting your strength, you gave both sets of daggers a hard push upwards, matching his retreat as he was forced to take a step back. This movement brought your body flush with his, and you could feel each and every hard plane of his form pressing against you.

 

He exhaled harshly, and you thought you saw a change in his eyes. There seemed to be a little more darkness, a little less blue. “Careful, now. You’re playing with fire,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to be able to hear him. A faint smile came to his face. “Unless you _wanna_ get burned?”

 

“Fire doesn’t scare me,” you replied, attempting to slide one of your daggers out from beneath his and break free. But he was having none of it. You felt him hook one foot around your ankle, yanking hard. Unbalanced, you fell back, and before you had a chance to recover, he was straddling you, one large hand on your hip to keep you from swinging back up to your feet, while the other had a dagger pressed to your throat.

 

But he wasn’t the winner of this fight – one of your own blades was rested against his lower stomach. You were at a stalemate.

 

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his rough thumb caress the strip of bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your pants. He only did it once, but that was enough.

 

It wasn’t the way he might touch you if he was simply adjusting his grip.

 

No, that had been deliberate.

 

“Looks like we’re in for round two sometime,” he commented casually, though his voice was lower than usual, and slightly raspy.

 

“What, once wasn’t enough for you?” you asked, trying to return things to some semblance of normalcy. Your skin was tingling where he had touched you, and you weren’t sure that it was unpleasant.

 

He smirked, and his next words were laced with meaning. “Trust me, once is _never_ enough.”

 

You twisted your hips in an attempt to dislodge him. “Get off me already.” You were aware that people were staring, and you didn’t want any rumors to get started because Nyx had remained in contact with you just a couple of minutes longer than necessary.

 

“Sure thing,” he agreed amicably, pulling himself to his feet and offering you a hand, which you smacked away. You didn’t need anyone to help you up, least of all him.

 

Sheathing your daggers, you turned away, moving across the ring to collect the rest of your uniform and put it on. As you did, you had to admit that you’d had more fun than you had anticipated – although this wasn’t hard to do, since you hadn’t thought you would have _any_. While you fastened your jacket, you turned your head just enough to be able to see him out of the corner of one eye.

 

He was in the process of replacing his own clothes, though he took less care with it than you did, only giving a couple of tugs to make sure everything fell the way it was supposed to, rather than painstakingly smoothing down the fabric, as you had done. He never was one to care much about his appearance, you knew, even though he was always immaculate when he had to appear before his superiors. That was one of the odd things about Nyx; he was never sloppy in anything he did, but somehow seemed to maintain an air of carelessness about him most of the time. It was one of the things that just added to his roguish charm.

 

Too bad you weren’t falling for it.

 

As if he could feel your gaze on him, Nyx turned around to face you, giving you a wave. “Nice warmup. But how about we try it again sometime – no holds barred?”

 

Now _that_ was tempting. The only time you could unleash your full potential was on the battlefield, but you were always too tense to really enjoy it. The threat of imminent death always casting a shadow on you tended to dampen your enjoyment of a good fight, so the notion of being able to do it in a safe place – and against him, no less – was something that had you nodding your agreement before you could even think twice about it.

 

“You’re on.”

 

He blinked in surprise, having expected you to refuse, given your constant hostility around him. But maybe you were starting to warm up to him, just a little. That made him smile. Maybe he could get through to you, yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, you stood at the edge of the building, the wind whipping your hair around your face. In each gloved hand, you held one of your daggers. Your heart pounded in your chest as you gazed down at the ground hundreds of feet below. Heights had never been your favorite thing, so this was more difficult than it should have been. But it was a challenge you weren’t about to back down from, especially since it was a hurdle that was guaranteed to get in the way of your duties if you didn’t overcome it.

 

Taking a deep breath, you raised one arm, and threw the dagger as hard as you could. Almost before it had finished sinking into the stone of the structure across from you, your form had vanished in a crackle of blue light, only to reappear again in another burst, the almost electrical sound of the completed warp tickling at your senses. You would never get used to that surreal feeling of your body literally skipping through space and time like that.

 

But you didn’t have time to think about it. Hanging from your precarious perch, you turned your body halfway, clinging tightly to the embedded dagger before throwing the other one back at the building you had just left. As you felt the warp tugging at you again, you yanked the first blade free of the stone.

 

Jump after jump, you continued warping your way down the building. Forty feet from the ground, you threw your weapon straight down, where it landed hilt-up in the concrete.

 

But just as you felt your body beginning to disintegrate, you saw a tall form cloaked in the Kingsglaive raiment striding across the square. He didn’t see the dagger, you realized. He didn’t see you above him.

 

You were going to collide, and it was too late to cancel the warp.

 

Having enough foresight to move the blade you still held out of the way so you wouldn’t accidentally stab him, you hit him hard, instinctively curling up to protect yourself as the two of you went down in a tangle of limbs and leather.

 

Though your landing was softer than usual thanks to the man beneath you, it still hurt. But what made things even worse was the familiar “Oof” of pain that resounded in your ears, and the scent of leather – which, admittedly, everyone in the Kingsglaive carried – twining around the man’s own personal scent; familiar soap that smelled like rain, and a faint hint of what could almost be called wood smoke (was that some type of aftershave, or was it a scent that came from his magic use? You didn’t know).

 

“Astrals _damn_ it, Nyx, watch where you’re going!” you all but shouted, trying to extricate yourself from your pseudo-nemesis. He was sprawled out on his stomach beneath you, and you were lying diagonally across his back, turned halfway onto your side and narrowly having missed impaling yourself on the ribbed metal horn that was attached to the hood of his jacket. You could feel his braids tickling your face as you attempted to sit up.

 

He looked back at you over his shoulder with an innocent look on his face, but you could see his slate-blue eyes dancing wickedly. As borderline-suicidal as it was, you were almost certain he had done that on purpose.

 

“I _was_ watching where I was going,” he replied mildly, showing no signs of getting up. In fact, his only movement was to somehow squirm his way onto his back, leaving you practically lying flush against him. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching you in amusement. “It’s not my fault it suddenly started raining women, now, is it? Not that I’m complaining about that…”

 

Delivering a frustrated punch to his solid chest – which didn’t do much, given that you hadn’t put your weight behind it – you pulled yourself to your feet, yanking your second dagger out of the ground and sliding both weapons into their sheaths, which were strapped to the outside of each of your thighs.

 

“You know it’s dangerous to just walk out into the square like that; we use it for training all the time. Didn’t you see my dagger?” you asked him, shifting from one foot to the other and making sure that you hadn’t broken anything. When you had ascertained that you were unharmed, you quickly dusted off your uniform, straightening it out.

 

“Mm, can’t say that I did.” With a sigh, he stood up, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly to the side as he watched you. “Always Miss Prim and Proper, aren’t you? Just can’t stand to get a little dirty.”

 

“That’s not the point,” you grumbled. It wasn’t like that; you just needed something to keep your fingers occupied so they didn’t find their way around his neck and strangle him. Murdering one of your fellow Glaive was the type of thing your superiors frowned upon, after all. When you were sure that you had exhausted the excuse of straightening your uniform, you turned to face him once more. “More importantly, how is it that you always seem to be in the exact same place I am more often than not? It’s like you have some kind of radar that just homes in on me.”

 

“You shouldn’t flatter yourself like that; how do I know _you’re_ not following _me_?”

 

“That would be a valid point, if you ever showed up in a particular place first. But it’s always the other way around. I’m alone in a place, and then suddenly, there you are. What would have happened if you’d walked out before I threw that dagger? Or what if I couldn’t move the other one out of the way fast enough? You could have been killed.”

 

“Nah. It would take more than those little toothpicks to kill me. When I go out, it’s going to be in a blaze of glory, not because someone fell on me.” He paused. “Why, are you worried you might have hurt me?”

 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a good fighter, and we’d be worse off without you. I’m just thinking about the rest of the Glaive, not you in particular.”

 

Nyx reached up, clutching his chest. “Ow… You really know how to cut a man where it hurts, don’t you?”

 

“Keep bumping into me, and you’ll find out.” You ran your fingers over the hilts of your daggers pointedly, making sure that he got the hint.

 

This made him give a short chuckle. “Maybe I will…” With an enigmatic backwards glance, he gave you a careless wave, continuing on his way to wherever he had been going before he’d quite literally collided with you.

 

You shook your head, turning in the opposite direction and beginning the long trek back up to the top of the building you had just warped down from. Back to square one. But as you walked, your pace began to slow. Come to think of it, Nyx really _did_ seem to be everywhere you might show up at. Two or three times was a coincidence, but he had found you time and time again, even when you hadn’t told anyone else where you would be going. How did he keep doing that, and why…?

 

You came to a complete stop as what had just happened replayed itself in your mind, and you realized something you hadn’t noticed at first. The square you’d just left was very large, and he’d started walking out into it when you were about two-thirds of the way down the building. That meant…

 

Suddenly, you spun on your heel, turning around and taking off after the infuriating Glaive.

 

It didn’t take you long to find him. He hadn’t gotten very far down the sunlit hallway, allowing you to easily catch him. Before he had a chance to say anything to you, you had grabbed his wrist, hauling him into an empty room and closing the door behind the two of you.

 

You faced him once more, taking in the bewildered look on his face.

 

“Okaaay…this is new. What was it you were saying about not following me?” He arched one eyebrow, casually bracing his fist on one cocked hip as he waited to hear your explanation for why you had suddenly cornered him like this.

 

You began to pace slowly back and forth, trying to line up your rather chaotic thoughts. “You know, the more I thought about it, the more I started to believe that it was all just a little too convenient. You really _do_ show up wherever I am, at all hours of the day, even when you shouldn’t have been able to find me. And I know that you saw my dagger. You were already partway across the square when I threw it; there’s no way you would have missed it. You’re a Glaive – specially trained to notice details like that, especially if it’s a potential weapon that’s raining down on you. Even though you saw it, you still walked out there, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop the warp before I hit you. You could have waited, or even walked _around_ where I was going to land. There’s no rational reason for it whatsoever, so why would you walk right beneath me, knowing that I would crash into you? _Why_ , Nyx?”

 

With these last words, you abruptly turned to face him once more, standing mere inches away. Your eyes bored into his, you weren’t going to give him the opportunity to dodge the question or change the subject. You were getting to the bottom of this, _now_.

 

For a long moment, Nyx simply gazed at you, his expression unreadable. But then there was a sudden movement, and the next thing you knew, he had taken your face between his hands, the smooth material of the leather covering his palms a sharp contrast to the roughness of his bare fingers. His mouth descended on yours with almost bruising force, and you felt yourself freeze, unable to think of the correct way to respond to this.

 

He held the kiss for what felt like an eternity before finally breaking away, though he kept his hands where they were. “Damn it, woman, you’re almost as infuriating as you say I am. I’ve been trying for _weeks_ to provoke you into coming after me like this, and you refused to do it. What took you so long? I thought I was actually going to have to throw myself in front of a daemon to get your attention.”

 

You blinked, trying to make sense of his words. Finally, slowly, you reached up, placing your hands over his. Then without warning, you dug your nails into the leather, hard enough that he would be able to feel it.

 

“You _idiot_! All this time, you’ve been doing this just to get my attention? What are you, twelve? You’re one step away from pulling my hair on the playground!”

 

He hissed at the sudden sting, yanking his hands back and shaking them out. “I didn’t exactly have a lot of choices. If I’d come right out and asked you to go out with me sometime, would you have said yes?”

 

“Probably not.” You didn’t even have to think about your answer.

 

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought. So I knew the only way I could get you alone would be to make you so angry, you’d have no choice but to come find me. I knew I would probably end up with my ass kicked, but I figured it would be worth it. I thought I had you the day before yesterday in the ring, but that damn self-control of yours just…got in the way.”

 

“So take the hint already,” you almost snarled, not liking the way his kiss had sent a flood of heat spiraling through you. “There’s a reason I avoid you, in case you didn’t notice.”

 

“And what reason is that?” He was watching you closely, slate-blue eyes taking in the furious rising and falling of your chest as you breathed, studying the way you were glaring at him, paying very close attention to the partially-hidden emotions he could see in your eyes.

 

“Because…” You stepped forward, placing your finger against his chest and poking him with each word. “ _I can’t stand you_.”

 

One eyebrow arched. “Yeah? I think you’re lying. If you hate me so much, then why do you keep using my first name? You don’t do that with someone you hate.”

 

This made you blink, momentarily at a loss for words. He had you there. You’d never thought about addressing him any other way. He had always been Nyx to you, even when you were absolutely furious with him. Your mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to think of anything to say in your defense.

 

“Screw you,” you muttered at last. “You are _so_ damn irritating, and you make me want to…to…” The next thing you knew, your hands had fisted into the collar of his jacket, and you were standing on tiptoe, your mouth on his in a searing kiss that you felt all the way through your body. His own hands came up to wrap around you, one on your lower back, the other behind your head, twining through your hair.

 

Somehow, your fingers found their way down to the buckle that held the garment closed, and you deftly unfastened it, yanking the edges open before pushing it off his broad shoulders. He had to release you to shrug off the jacket, but as soon as it was gone, he had unerringly found the clasps on the one you wore, and he made short work of them. His hands slid inside, feeling the warmth of your body, and he pulled you tightly against him, nipping at your bottom lip in a silent demand for entry.

 

You obliged, opening your mouth and letting his tongue enter, but you weren’t ready to relinquish complete control, and you quickly forced him back out, following him into his own mouth. The two of you went back and forth, each trying to assert dominance over the other, and neither one willing to give way.

 

He reached up to grasp your wrists, pulling your arms down and allowing him to slide your jacket off, where it soon joined his.

 

Nyx broke the kiss first, but he wasn’t finished with you; his mouth trailed down your neck, placing surprisingly gentle bites along the skin, until suddenly, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, deep enough to make you gasp, your body jerking against his. You should have known that he wouldn’t let you get through this without some form of proof of what had happened.

 

Licking the bruised flesh softly, he leaned back just enough to see what he was doing as his fingers slid down over your sides, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, leaving you in a sheer black bra. His eyes drank in the sight of your bared skin, lingering on the fading bruises you had accumulated during training before finally zeroing in on your bra, and he grinned.

 

“Oh, please tell me you wore that just for me.”

 

“The hell I did,” you grumbled, finding the hem of his shirt in response, all but ripping it off and revealing his torso to you. You paused for a moment, unable to keep yourself from getting a better look at him. His upper body was riddled with numerous faded scars, some prominent against his lightly tanned skin, others barely visible. Placing your hands on the tops of his pants, you traced over every ridge of his abdomen, trailing slowly upward, your fingers hesitating over the healed scars, feeling their slick surface.

 

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone – least of all the man himself – but the sight of Nyx standing there in front of you half-dressed sent a bolt of arousal straight to your core, and you clenched your thighs together tightly in an attempt to stave off the surge of heat. How was it that someone you wanted to strangle on a daily basis could make you feel like this? You didn’t think you had ever wanted anyone more in your entire life. And that just made you even angrier.

 

You were on him again in an instant, leaving a string of bites across the top of his chest and along his collarbones, most of them hard enough to turn the skin pink. If he was going to make _you_ remember this, then you were going to return the favor.

 

His hands came down to your hips, and you felt yourself being lifted against him. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he turned, carrying you across the room and putting you down on a table that had been tucked away in a corner. As soon as you parted from him, his fingers were at your belt buckle, unfastening it, and then going directly to your pants, which received the same treatment.

 

“Raise up,” he growled, drawing the garment down a few inches. When you lifted your hips, he quickly slid them the rest of the way down, pausing only long enough to unstrap the sheaths where you kept your daggers from around your thighs before pulling off your boots and tossing them carelessly aside. Your pants soon followed, leaving you clad only in a bra and panties.

 

He situated himself between your legs, one arm going around you to find the clasp of your bra, which quickly came undone (privately, you were impressed by his ability to do that with only one hand) while the fingers of his other hand dipped down over your stomach, coming into contact with the scrap of fabric that was the only thing separating your core from his touch.

 

But he didn’t let this stop him, as he began to rub circles around the sensitive area, locating the bundle of nerves that he knew would be the key to your undoing.

 

You moaned softly, draping your arms over his shoulders and pulling him close, burying your face in his shoulder and inhaling his scent, which had become far too familiar to you. Pleasure slowly saturated your body, setting your nerves alight and making you want more.

 

Unfortunately, Nyx wasn’t going to make it that easy. He leaned back just enough to be able to look down at you. “Tell me what you want, babe,” he said, his voice low and silky.

 

Your eyes hardened as you gazed back at him. What he was doing felt good, but it wasn’t even close to being enough, and he refused to slip past the barrier of your panties and touch you directly. But did you want it enough to swallow your pride and give him what he wanted?

 

While he waited, he continued to leisurely circle the bud, one finger barely ghosting over it every now and then, to remind you of what could be yours, if you just gave in.

 

You clenched your teeth, suddenly pulling him back to you for a fierce kiss. When you finally broke it, you kept him close, so you could whisper in his ear. “Touch me.”

 

The pleasure he had been giving you abruptly stopped, but that was because he was currently tugging your panties off, and finally, you felt his fingers come into contact with bare flesh. You gasped, your legs unconsciously widening as he plunged a single finger into you, not even bothering to remove his gloves first. Caught up in the pleasure you were feeling, you didn’t notice his hand disappear into the pocket of his pants for a moment.

 

Nyx was a bit startled by what he found. He was met with no resistance as the digit slid into you; your essence coated him liberally, the liquid proof of your state of arousal impossible to miss. “Damn, you’re already this wet for me? I’m flattered.” Realizing that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he added a second finger, and your passage became more snug around him; he would have to work for a third. His thumb came up to roll over the bundle of nerves above your entrance, and your hips jerked in response as the pleasure suddenly spiked.

 

“Just prove that you’re worth it,” you told him, though he was already doing a fairly good job of it.

 

Something flared within his lust-darkened eyes, then. “Is that a challenge?” he asked softly. “Because whatever expectations you might have, I’ll _destroy_ them.”

 

As his fingers continued their devastating work within you, he pulled off your bra, pushing you back so that you had to catch yourself on your elbows. He leaned over you, mouth hovering just above your breasts. “I’ve been wondering what these would feel like in my mouth for a while now,” he commented, almost to himself. “I think it’s high time I found out, don’t you?”

 

Without waiting for a response, he made good on his threat, his tongue flickering across the peak before he bit down, the sensation stopping just short of pain. You knew you would have another mark there, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the release he was slowly pushing you towards.

 

Your hands slid up his back, leaving behind faint pink lines as your nails scratched over his skin. He gave a soft moan at the sting, but made no other protest.

 

You flinched slightly as you felt him slowly sliding a third finger into your entrance, stretching you. Despite the roughness you had both shown up to this point, he was careful, not wanting to cause you actual pain.

 

But the discomfort soon faded, and before long, you were moving your hips in tandem with his hand, trying to wring as much pleasure out of the movements as you could. There was a faint tightness in your abdomen that signaled your release, but it was still out of reach. You needed more. And you were sure there was only one way that you were going to get it, however much you might dislike the notion.

 

You tugged on the end of one of his braids to get his attention, and he left off his ministrations to your breast to look up at you.

 

“Something wrong?” he asked, and you saw that there was a knowing look in his eyes.

 

Though you opened your mouth to reply, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at first. He hadn’t demanded anything of you this time; you were doing this of your own free will. But it was very possible that he knew his touch wouldn’t be enough to send you over the edge, and he was just waiting for you to come to the same conclusion and take matters into your own hands, so to speak. But at this point, you were too far gone to really care. You wanted that release, desperately. You even wanted it to be at his hands.

 

“Damn it, Nyx, you know _exactly_ what’s wrong,” you told him. Your legs were trembling as the pleasure flowed through you, but it still wasn’t enough. He was insisting on playing dumb, though, and simply blinked, waiting for you to continue your train of thought.

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

Enough was enough. Reaching down, you pulled his fingers from you, positioning them above your entrance. “Make me come,” you said, your voice soft. It wasn’t a request, and for a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you. His personality was just as strong-willed as yours was, and eventually, one of them would have to submit to the other.

 

But it looked like he would let it slide this time as something seemed to snap within him, and his mouth captured yours in a kiss that took your breath away with its ferocity. He didn’t need any further coaxing as his fingers went to work, dancing across the bundle of nerves with a speed and accuracy that would have left you panting, had your mouth not been otherwise occupied.

 

Unable to hold back a soft cry of sheer pleasure, you broke the kiss, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, losing yourself in the sensations flowing through your body as you clung to him, helpless beneath his touch.

 

“Hearing those words come from that pretty mouth… I don’t think you realize what you’ve just done,” he whispered in your ear, tilting your head to the side to nibble at your neck. “I’ll be a gentleman and give you what you want first, but then… Then you’re _mine_.”

 

At this point, you didn’t care. All that mattered was the pressure slowly building within you as your release crept closer and closer. Your entire body trembled against his larger frame, and he held you close, patiently waiting for your climax to wash over you. It wouldn’t be long, he knew; he recognized the telltale signs of your body working itself up to the breaking point.

 

And then, through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind, you heard him say something that made you open your eyes.

 

“Say my name when you come,” he commanded, making sure that you knew which one of you was in control of the situation. He might have given in to your request, but that didn’t mean he had submitted to you. Far from it, in fact; he intended to exert his dominion over you very soon – this was just the first step. “I want to make sure you know who it is giving you your release.”

 

He was enjoying this, damn him. And the worst part of the entire thing was that you were enjoying it, too. You didn’t break easily, and you certainly never thought you would be broken by someone like Nyx Ulric, yet here you were, slowly unravelling beneath his expert touch.

 

Before you had time to formulate a reply, searing pleasure shot through your body, causing your hips to jerk against him, and he tightened his hold on you as you rode out your climax. His fingers continued to work over you as you shuddered violently, and you felt him nip your neck, making sure he had your attention.

 

“Say it, babe,” he crooned.

 

“ _Nyx_ ,” you breathed, your voice laced with intense pleasure.

 

The blue-eyed Glaive felt a shiver race up his spine at the sensual sound of your voice. He hadn’t known that _anything_ could sound that way, least of all the spitting viper that you usually turned into when he was nearby.

 

“Gods, I love hearing you say my name like that…” Any more cries of pleasure you might have made were cut off as he kissed you, his tongue sweeping into your mouth before you had time to gather the pieces of your fragmented consciousness enough to force him back out.

 

His hand slowed its work once he was sure you were coming down from your post-release high, and then finally stopped altogether, dipping down for a moment to collect some of your essence. He waited until your eyes opened again and were fixed on him before he raised the glistening digits to his mouth, carefully licking them clean.

 

You watched in a curious mixture of fascination and mortification as he did this. It was starting to become clear that he was going to end up pushing every one of your buttons, and that you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him.

 

“As much as I would like to have a better taste, I think that’s going to have to wait. There are other things I’d rather do at the moment. Next time, though…” His voice dripped with sinful promise, making your narrow your eyes.

 

“What makes you think there’s even going to _be_ a next time?” you asked.

 

He grinned in response, and you could practically see the daemon horns curling up from his head. “Like I told you in the ring: once is never enough. I think it’s safe to say that applies to this, too.”

 

You gave a hiss of annoyance through your teeth, pushing him off of you and sliding from the surface of the table. While it was tempting to just gather your clothes and leave him there to take care of himself, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, your fingers found the strap that held the sheath of his dagger against his back, unfastening it and dropping it to the floor. That done, you went to work on his belt, and then his pants.

 

He didn’t give you the chance to undress him the way he’d done to you; the instant the button on his pants came loose, he was kicking them off, along with his boots, and in a matter of seconds, he was just as bare as you were, except for the gloves you both wore. Oddly, this single article of clothing left just turned you on even more than you already were, and you didn’t protest when he made no move to take them off.

 

Your head tilted slightly to the side as you got your first look at his unclothed form, and you had to admit, you liked what you saw. His length was quite impressive, and you were rather interested to see that the scars which littered his torso extended down over his hips and legs, as well. He’d had a hard life; that much was obvious.

 

But you only got to study him for a moment before his hands were on you again, turning you around and pushing you against the table. Lifting one of your legs, he positioned your knee on the surface, so you were braced partially on top of it. Pressing himself against your back, he took hold of himself, sliding his length along your slick folds for a few moments.

 

Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushed forward slowly, pausing after every inch to allow you to become accustomed to him. When he was halfway in, he suddenly snapped his hips against yours, filling you completely and causing you to give a cry that was neither pleasure nor pain, but a mix of both.

 

When he was fully seated within you, he stopped again, pulling you back against him and rubbing his face against your neck. You could feel the rough scratch of his unshaven whiskers against the tender skin of your throat, and you found that you liked the sensation. Reaching up, you placed one hand on his arm, the other curling back behind his head.

 

Your fingers curled into his braids, and you gave a soft yank to pull his head back so you could reach his neck, trailing a line of kisses along the flesh. Slowly, you began to move your hips, trying to encourage him to do the same.

 

A deep chuckle made its way out of his throat; you could feel the vibrations through his chest. “What, are you getting a little impatient? Well, who am I to deny a lady what she wants?” He paused, then, a wicked glint appearing in his blue eyes. “Especially when what she wants is _me_.”

 

With a soft growl, you raised your mouth from his neck. “Shut up and move.”

 

The hand that was rested on your waist tightened its grip, and you had to remove your own hand from behind his head in order to brace yourself on the edge of the table as he set up a fast and hard rhythm that left you jolting forward each time his hips met yours.

 

You moaned quietly, feeling him brush your hair back off one shoulder and beginning to nibble at the exposed skin, leaving progressively harder bites as he went, though he never crossed the line into pain.

 

“I never thought you would feel this good around me,” he murmured in your ear, his voice somewhat strained as his own pleasure began to flow through him. Your walls were tight around him, and even though his passage was eased by your earlier release, the amount of friction was enough to make him moan.

 

He’d wanted you for quite some time now, and he’d gotten bolder with his advances as time went on, once he realized that you gave as good as you got, rather than being offended or upset. He usually wasn’t so aggressive in his pursuits…but then, he’d never found a woman like you before. You fought him every step of the way, and that just made him want you more. He had a suspicion that you didn’t hate him as much as you claimed to; despite what your words said, your body told a different story. It had taken him a while to be sure, but once he was, he leapt in without hesitation, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he broke past that iron wall you had built around yourself.

 

He had known that he would enjoy himself when he finally had you at his mercy, and he’d fully intended to make sure you got more than your share of pleasure out of it, as well, but now that he was finally sheathed inside of you, he found that the experience exceeded all of his expectations. You had been well worth the wait, he decided, and he knew that, one way or the other, he would find a way to lure you back into his arms again.

 

Abruptly, he pulled out of you, making you give a soft mewl of protest. Turning you around, he lifted you back onto the surface of the table, drawing your legs around his waist before plunging himself back inside you. He wanted to be able to see your face, rather than having your back to him.

 

Your arms went around him, and you buried your face in his neck, letting him hold you tightly against his surprisingly muscular body. One hand raised, and he ran his thumb gently over your cheek in a tender gesture.

 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he murmured, knowing you weren’t going to like this. Sure enough, you stiffened against him, your fingernails digging crescents into his shoulderblades. But still he held you, not letting you pull away. “Even if it’s not true…” he added quickly, in an attempt to placate your volatile temper, “…just say it.”

 

“You want empty words?” you asked, raising your head so you could look him in the eye. But even as you asked this, trying to put disdain into your voice, you knew that it hadn’t had quite the amount of bite you’d wanted.

 

 _Empty for you, maybe_ , he thought to himself. Out loud, he simply said, “Humor me.”

 

Your second climax was beginning to build, and you knew that, as it did, your inhibitions were slipping away. Release was like being drunk; once it had hold of you, it made you say and do things you otherwise would never have done. It made you reckless, and you knew that you would say anything, _do_ anything if it would just continue a little longer, keeping you locked in that exquisite ecstasy that wiped all rational thought from your mind.

 

For several long seconds, you said nothing, the only sounds in the room a combination of heavy breathing, and the rhythmic sound of his hips crashing against yours as he pushed you inexorably towards the abyss.

 

But finally, you reached up, and for a moment he went still, thinking you might slap him. Instead, you placed your hand against the side of his face, and leaned forward to kiss him. It was the softest kiss you had given him thus far, and it stunned him. He didn’t think you had it in you to be this gentle.

 

When you broke it, instead of pulling away, you leaned back only far enough to be able to speak, and you gave him what he wanted, not sure if the words were quite as empty as you’d claimed. “I’m yours, Nyx.”

 

These three words broke whatever shred of composure he had left, and he thrust into you almost viciously, his hand snaking down and finding the bundle of nerves that had sent you over the edge before. He rubbed his fingers over it frantically, causing you to cry out as you were suddenly slingshotted into your second release, throwing your head back, your nails digging shallow channels into his back.

 

“ _Nyx!_ ” Though he hadn’t asked for it, you all but screamed his name as almost painful pleasure sank its claws into you, ripping into your nerves and leaving them laid bare.

 

This sent him tumbling over the edge after you, and you clung to each other as you both descended into white-hot bliss. Vaguely, you felt him bury his face against your throat, and you gasped as he bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, adding one more mark to the pattern he had already left on you.

 

His almost-burning heat filled you, but you weren’t bothered by it, except to wonder how you would be cleaning yourself up afterwards. But that was a far-away thought, and something that you didn’t particularly want to focus on at the moment.

 

Instead, you ran your fingers through the short, dark hair of your nemesis-turned-lover, feeling almost mellow towards him – for now. When you’d told him to prove that he was worth it, he had certainly risen to the challenge, and then some. You hadn’t felt anything like that in quite a while, and it raised your opinion of him a notch. He was a _damn_ good lover.

 

Finally, Nyx extracted himself from you, wandering around the room for a moment until he returned with a square of cloth (where had he found that?), which he gently used to clean himself off you. Once all trace of your combined release had been cleaned away, he tended to himself before returning to you, placing his hands on either side of the table and preventing you from getting up.

 

“So,” he said casually, his slate-blue eyes glittering. “Was it any good?”

 

With an impatient click of your tongue, you pushed him away, standing up and collecting your clothes, methodically putting them on. But as you did, you realized something.

 

Your panties were gone.

 

Brow furrowing, you spun to look at him, noticing the almost impish way he was looking at you. “Give them,” you demanded, holding out one hand.

 

“Give what?” he asked innocently.

 

“Give me back my underwear, Nyx.” Your voice was a growl now.

 

He held up his hands. “I don’t have them. You must have lost them somewhere. Guess you’ll have to go without until you’re off-duty for the day.”

 

For a long time, you stared at him, your hard gaze meeting his amused one. But he wasn’t about to back down this time. He was going to keep a memento of this, even though it was one that you were far from pleased about. The marks he had left on your body (and the ones you had left on his) would fade, but this was tangible, lasting proof of what had happened, and he wasn’t going to let that go.

 

At last, you turned back around without another word, sliding your pants on and fastening them, sans panties. It would be a bit uncomfortable, but you could deal with it until you returned home that evening.

 

Nyx grinned, realizing that he’d won this round. He replaced his own boots and pants, watching you as you straightened your clothing. Unable to help himself, he moved over to you, pressing himself against your back and wrapping his arms around you. You stiffened, but didn’t try to shake him off.

 

“You smell like me,” he whispered into your ear. “I could get used to that.”

 

“Don’t get too attached,” you warned him, but your voice had lost some of the venom it once carried. “This was a one-time thing.”

 

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, babe.”

 

Finally pulling out of his hold, you cast him one final glance over your shoulder, your expression unreadable. “ _No one_ learns about this, understand?” That was the last thing you needed; you were already teased enough without anyone finding out that you’d just been given two of the best releases of your life by the man you claimed to hate.

 

“Don’t worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut,” he replied, reaching for his sleeveless shirt and tugging it over his head, covering up the scratches and bite marks you had left on his already-scarred body.

 

You snorted. “Huh…could have fooled me.” With that, you turned and left the room, closing the door behind you. But as you walked down the hallway, feeling a deep, not unpleasant ache between your thighs, his words echoed in your mind.

 

 _Trust me, once is **never** enough_.

 

You hadn’t wanted to believe it at the time, but he might have just been right about that.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Nyx is a bit of a strange one to figure out. I see him having the potential to be one of two kinds of lovers. He can be gentle and tender, positively loving when he wants to be...
> 
>  
> 
> And then he can be aggressive and dominating, especially when he's denied something he really wants. That's kind of what happened here.
> 
>  
> 
> That being said, though, holy HELL is he fun to write for! I haven't had this much fun with a character in a long time. I've also never written angry sex, and THAT was more fun than I expected, too.
> 
>  
> 
> I might be doing a sequel to this one, exploring that sweet and tender side that I mentioned. ...eventually. There's still so much I want to write for all my boys!


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